


Creep

by BellJarred



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 19:23:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5139656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellJarred/pseuds/BellJarred
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You, [First Name] [Last Name], were something special, and Dib? Well, he was just a creep...with an abnormally large head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Uptight

**Author's Note:**

> Copying some of my existing stories from Lunaescence and GOTVG to this site so that when I update a story it can be published on all three sites. When I started writing this I was listening to a lot of Radiohead and thought that Dib's life was pretty easily related to any Radiohead song. You can assume that since I'm posting this here I plan to update it soon-ish, yeah?

 

“ _I’d tell all my friends, but they’d never believe me, They’d think that I’d finally lost it completely._ ”  
**\- Subterranean Homesick Alien**  
*~*

His ears twitched, alerted by the unpleasant sound of some sort of sloshing liquid – something distinctly “gloopy” like the contents of a week old MacMeaty’s burger. Immediately, his eyes darted about the surrounding area in search of a source for the disturbing noise, and it was almost out of sheer habit that his gaze found Zim.

“Putrid stink-beasts!” The aforementioned green youth spat vehemently.  _Sploosh! Sploosh!_ Dib cringed at the return of the revolting sound. “They will rue the day their retched planet adapted a weather system that burns the flesh of Zim!  _RUE_  IT!”

Dib Membrane, unable to stifle his curiosity for all things seemingly paranormal, allowed his abnormally large head to peak out from the edge of his seat into the aisle-way. A few seats back from his own, Zim could be found, muttering angrily to himself as he smothered all visible bits of verdant flesh in a white paste. Dib’s eyes narrowed in disbelief at the sight.  _I-Is that glue?_

Just as he parted his lips, fully intent upon voicing his mental query, another person beat him to the punch. “Zim,” a bubbly voice interjected. Dib could not see who was speaking, but he had a pretty good idea based upon the chipper inflection of the word. “Can I have my paste back now?”

Zim, thoroughly annoyed at having his diabolical monologue cut short, snarled at the very question. His hand, which contained the nearly empty container of glue, recoiled sharply before sailing forwards in the direction of the adjacent seat. “ _SILENCE_ , DIRT CHILD!” he hissed, his forked tongue sibilant and threatening, as the PASTE container soared across the aisle.

“Ow, my eye!” The other, ultimately unidentified speaker screamed as something presumably made painful contact with one of his many ghastly face orifices. There was not a moment’s hesitation after the initial contact before this person spoke again. “Thanks, best friend!”

Dib’s gaze drifted to the grayscale scenery blurring by outside of his window. He rested his head against the cool glass and the muscles in his neck and shoulders were undoubtedly relieved at the shift in weight. He, with his beady black eyes and pursed lips, tried to lose himself in the simplicity of falling rain drops, but his racing mind would not allow it.  _It was always like this, wasn’t it?_

Keef, whilst arguably the most extreme case, was otherwise a prime example of his Skool’s ignorance. Here he had just witnessed such an abnormal sight – a green skinned extraterrestrial, maladjusted to Earth’s climate, was coating his body in paste for weather protection – and all he could stand to do was smile and mourn the temporary loss of his glue.

Dib could recall a time in SKOOL, before he had suffered through puberty, when he had first discovered Zim’s H2O affliction (a fiasco so disastrous that it had resulted in the flooding – or “wettening” of the entire city). People had ignored it then just as they had now.

Why was it that nobody was willing to accept the truth when it was right under their noses? What was the point of exposing the paranormal if people continued to refute the facts, to take a step outside their small, naïve little worlds? Dib sighed despairingly. Perhaps it might be better to ignore the obvious, just to avoid the torment of his ornery peers for a change?

It was not long after he had settled on the security of staying silent that the words came pouring out, quite like the projectile vomit one experiences after having one too many Brain Freezies, and Dib found himself standing on his crusty leather seat, pupils swelled and index finger pointed defiantly at Zim.

“Look, everyone! ZIM’S AN ALIEN! HIS BODY CAN’T ACCLIMATE TO THE MOISTURE OF OUR CLIMATE AND SO HE’S APPLYING PASTE TO HIS SKIN TO SURVIVE!”

There was a deafening silence on the bus as the rest of the occupants of the dilapidated Skool bus looked back and forth between the two “freaks”, expressions of pure skepticism evident on every face.

Zim’s eyes darted frantically about the area. He looked not quite like a deer in headlights, but rather like one of the hobos he had caught rummaging around in his garbage with G.I.R. last night. He took several seconds to regain his composure before addressing the issue. “Foolish Dib-stink! This is  _clearly_  ointment for my skin condition – which is normal –  _I_  AM NORMAL!!”

Zim’s outburst was all their peers needed to dismiss the paranormal claims. A rather large classmate of theirs hurled a large wad of paper at Dim’s head in response. “Stop making fun of the disabled kid, you jerk,” the herculean beast of a teenaged-boy grunted.

“Disabled?” Dib blinked at the accusation. “But he’s not – a skin condition is not – you people are blind - HE’S AN ALIEN!!” He sputtered out, accompanied by a plethora of excitable, sporadic hand gestures. “

"Hey!” Another kid, seated more towards the back of the bus quipped. The only noticeable aspect of the anonymous kid’s appearance was the fact that he had on cool black shades despite the lack of sunshine.

“Are you makin’ fun of the blind kid now too, Membrane?” The same meaty male from before questioned, accompanied by a violent shake of his fist.

Several other kids began to chime in, assaulting Dib’s morals and incredibly disfigured head as Zim cackled in delight. The Irken invader was quite satisfied at having been able to turn the situation around yet again and make Dib look bad in the eyes of their adolescent society.

Dib groaned as he slumped dejectedly in his seat. These people were so easily swayed – so incredibly dense – that it pained him to be in their presence! They were so woefully uptight about everything, whether it be accepting paranormal facts or “disabled” kids, that Dib almost would have preferred the company of more aliens like Zim. _Almost_. Yet, befriending aliens was not an option for the great Dib Membrane: Hero of Earth, and so all he could hope for instead was at least the companionship of another bright enough to see through Zim’s faulty disguise.


	2. Wallpaper Life

 

“ _I don’t know why I feel so tongue-tied;  
I don’t know why I feel so skinned alive._”

  
**-Cuttooth  
*~***   


  


[E/c] eyes poured hungrily over the poorly written gobs of text, acting on the command of a human female that was, at best, absolutely captivated by the tale of a supernatural romance. The earthling’s pulse accelerated with the silent intake of each suspenseful syllable as her index finger traced line after line of rich, literary content.   
  


_About three things I was absolutely positive: First, Smedward was vampire. Second, there was a part of him – and I didn’t know how dominant that part of him might be (even though he’s a vampire and bloodlust is kind of their thing…) – that thirsted for my blood. And third, I was unconditionally and IRRATIONALLY—_   
  


“CURSE YOU, ZIM! Curse you and your impervious gnome defenses!”  
  


You twitched, feeling incredibly startled by the sudden interjection, as both a paperback book and a small, lit flashlight bounced from your lap and down the stoop steps of your apartment complex.   
  


“Man, now I’ve lost my page…” your grumbled despairingly to yourself as you bent down in attempts to gather up your scattered treasures. With the force of the fall, the generic torch had come apart and its fluorescent light had promptly diminished.   
  


“W-who’s there?” A frantic squeak resounded against the chill of the autumnal night.   
  


You strained to see the speaker despite the scarcity of visible light. “What? Isn’t that the question I should be asking of  _you_?” you paused in your speech, allowing your pupils to focus in on the form of a lanky male with disproportionate body parts as you stood. “You are the one that’s intruding on private property, after all.”  
  


The male glanced down cautiously, eying the poorly-manicured lawn that his sneakered feet had somewhat trampled. “You mean that somebody actually lives here?”   
  


You grimaced at the incredulous inflection in his voice. Your place of residence may have been in a bit of disrepair, but it was  _your_  home nonetheless. “Yes!” You snapped as your fumbling hands finally found all pieces of misplaced belongings. “It’s a freakin’ apartment complex, genius. A lot of people live here.”  
  


“I know it’s an apartment complex!” The male cried indignantly as he threw up his hands in exasperation. “I just didn’t think anybody lived here otherwise the alien next door would be in government custody by now! You  _have_  to have noticed how abnormal and green he is!”  
  


You blinked, slightly taken aback by his outburst. You tucked your book under your left arm and then worked leisurely at reassembling the flashlight. Your gaze drifted towards the tiny, green and purple dwelling wedged between two bland apartment complexes. “Well, yeah. People notice him, but around here they just don’t care.”  
  


For once in his horrible life, Dib Membrane – or as you knew him, the creep without proportion - was left absolutely speechless.  _You knew?_ Or better yet,  _you acknowledged the truth about Zim—the truth about everything?_  
  


“What’s it to you, anyway? Do you have some kind of weird fascination with him? He’s just kind of annoying if you ask me. Always stomping about the neighborhood with that cute little robot-dog of his and whispering to himself…the kind of activity I suspect you are also guilty of.”   
  


The male before you blanched as he rubbed at his eyes, quite unsure of what he was seeing. “But…but you’re saying that you do believe me – about Zim being an alien, I mean? You – you believe in the existence of the paranormal?”  
  


You nodded slowly, almost unsurely, as you twisted the top of the flashlight shut. “It’s kind of hard not to believe it. He’s got green skin, red-eyes, and antenna, and I’ve seen a  _spaceship_  fly out of his attic. The facts are hard to dispute.”  
  


The male stepped forward, grasping wildly at the collar of your shirt. “You live next door to him and you know, woman? Why isn’t he in, say, Area 51 by now?! He’s a threat to our planet! Hasn’t anybody thought to call the F.B.I?” He probed as he shook you furiously.  
  


You snarled at the violent gesture, and with the flick of a wrist your flashlight was aglow and shining brightly in his pale face. “Knock it off, you creep! I told you that nobody cares. Why do you think that it’s only me bothering to relocate when the neighbor’s alien tech drains all our power? The electricity is always out, and I’m the only one smart enough to use a flashlight.”   
  


The male shielded his bespectacled eyes from the intensity of the light as he backed away from you a couple of steps. “MY EYES!” He screeched, flailing about madly.  
  


You sighed at his eccentric mannerisms as you directed the light to your own face instead. “You’re so dramatic about everything, aren’t you? I’d almost prefer the company of E.T. over there…” you grumbled as you jerked your thumb in the direction of Zim’s house.  
  


A desperate plea of dissuasion threatened to teeter past the male’s lips as he regained his composure. You’d hang out with Zim? No, anything but that! Dib Membrane would  _not_  lose another innocent to the tyranny of the Irken Invader.  
  


“You can’t do that – You don’t know what he’s like – he’s – he’s…” the words came out easy enough, but he could not bring himself to organize them into something coherent. Perhaps this was simply an instance of his tongue failing to keep up with the rapid inner workings of his large head, or maybe it was all due to the fact that, upon being subjected to your full appearance for the first time, he was left virtually tongue-tied.  
  


Your brow furrowed as you watched his ghostly pallor take on some actual color for a change. “Relax! I was only kidding. My name’s [Name], by the way.”  
  


You smiled charmingly at him as you patted his shoulder delicately with your freehand. The male was nearly entranced as he stared wordlessly at you. The way your pearly whites glistened against soft lips, the sheen of your [h/c] locks, and the way your eyes sparkled with good-natured mirth…it transformed the great Dib Membrane from a cool, calculating genius into a crimson blob of babbling goo.  
  


“Y-yeah, I’m Dib.”   
  


As the two of you shook hands in the faint light of a cheaply made flashlight, your fate – and its inevitable intertwining with Dib’s own – was sealed.


End file.
